#vantagepointe

[thekidsarentalright]

my babygirl patreece is literally one pixel. maybe even half a pixel. tall but is still so beautiful in true blue i love her dearly <3

[coffeenuts]

Pogi by FotoGrazio https://flic.kr/p/2m6d1u1

[nisiverum]

And now caught up on my 3/3’s, closing out the weekend with a soothing view and a good night to you 🧡 • • #skyline #skylinephotography #skylinesofinstagram #vantagepoint #dramaticsunset #adventuregirl #telephotolens #70to300mm but eventually I’ll get something even bigger 🥰 #nikon #nikonshooters #nikond850 #nikonbabe #wintersun #wintersunset #travelmore #findadifferentview #dji #mavicair #mtbaldy #dronephotography #bwphotography #takeahike (at Mount Baldy, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CmDsG6uOS2u/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[preciousbarnes]

By Your Side

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You get badly injured on a mission, and Bucky doesn't handle it well.

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: Established Bucky x Reader, Agent!Reader, Explosions, Bodily Injury, Near Death Experience, Hospital Setting

It had been as routine as any mission could be. You, Sam, and Bucky were tasked to break into an old WWII bunker which held files containing information about a weapon that was at risk for resurfacing. The government wanted the files back in their hands before they could fall into someone else’s.

You all stood in the musky smelling dark bunker, everything covered in a thick layer of dust, not seeming to have been touched in decades. You were quickly gathering the old paper files into your backpack, when there was a sudden, persistent beeping to your right.

“Forget to turn off your alarm, agent?” Sam joked, making you and Bucky laugh.

You shook your head, before your eyes widened in realization. You all had let your guard down upon entering the bunker. With all the dust, you never imagined it could have all been staged to look untouched. You all made the mistake of being too comfortable. Too self-assured. And you were about to reap the consequences.

“Bomb!” You yelled, right as the beeping became constant.

Then, a bright flash and deafening boom, as your body was thrown back from the blast. You felt a sharp, searing sensation in your abdomen, overwhelming the pain you felt in the base of your skull. You laid there on the cold concrete floor, disoriented, your vision blurred as you tried desperately to regain your bearings.  Looking up you see a dark figure running to your side, a muffled sound of your name being called. Once the figure got closer, you could make out that it was Bucky.

His face, once it was in your vantagepoint, worried you. The usually stoic man on missions with the thousand-yard stare was obviously rattled, his eyes wide, hands ghosting over your form, afraid to touch you, like he was in fear he may hurt you more. Your eyes left his face to follow where he was looking, down at your abdomen, where the burning and constant ache was.

There it was. A metal pipe had pierced you during the explosion, now lodged in your stomach. There was blood pooling around the wound and on the floor under you, unsettlingly warm against the cool concrete. You swallowed dryly, before looking back up to Bucky, who looked utterly lost. That’s when Sam finally came into view. He had some scrapes and already forming bruises, but it was clear that you had taken the worst of the blast, being so close to the bomb.

“We need a medic in here, stat. Does anyone copy?” You heard Sam call through the coms, hearing a quick but dull reply you couldn’t make out respond soon after his order.

“They’re coming as fast as they can. How are you feeling?” Sam asks, kneeling on the other side of you, glancing up to Bucky to gage his condition before returning his focus to you.

“I-I’m cold, and s-so sleepy, Sam” You say hoarsely.

This seems to awaken Bucky, he begins sternly shaking his head, hand coming to firmly grasp yours. He recognized the signs. Cold. Sleepy. Signs of massive blood loss. Possible internal bleeding. Early signs of a fate he didn’t want for you.

“Doll, no, y’gotta stay awake. Stay awake for me, okay?” He says quickly, his metal hand coming up to push the hair out of your face and gently tuck it behind your ear. As he pulls his hand back, he notices his fingertips are coated in blood. Your blood. You had an injury to the back of your skull. His eyes widen at the sight of more of your blood, before he schools his expression back as much as he can, trying to look calm for your benefit, when he feels anything but calm.

“I- I don’t think I can, Buck. I’m so tired,” You tell him softly, before a cough works it's way up your throat, the force of it jarring your body and making you wince in pain.

Tears sprang to Bucky’s eyes as he shook his head once again. He knew what it meant if you went to sleep. He’d seen it play out way too many times on battlefields. You wouldn’t wake back up.

“Please, sweetheart, stay with me.” He pleaded with you, grasping your hand tighter, pulling it up to his lips to kiss gently.

“James,” you began, blinking a few times in effort to stay awake long enough to tell him what you felt compelled to tell him. You weren’t stupid. You knew you were in bad shape, with the likelihood of your survival getting slimmer by each passing moment the medics were taking to get to you.

“I-I love you, James. It’s okay. If I have to go, I’d want it to be like this. D-doing the work I believe in, and getting to be with you. You’ll be okay, Jamie.” You told him, voice shaky.

Tears begin to fall down Bucky’s face as he cries without abandon, shaking his head once again, hair flopping around with the viciousness of the shakes.

“No. You can’t leave me. Not like this. You can't tell me you love me like this. Save it for when you’re better. Not like this.” He begs between sobs.

Sam rises to his feet, calling on the coms that they needed help now, that things were looking grim. Your eyes begin to drift shut on their own accord, unable to keep them open any longer. You begin to fall into what feels like a deep sleep, Bucky’s cries being the last thing you heard, each one breaking your heart.

The first thing you heard was a soft and steady beep, accompanied by the sterile smell that medical facilities always had. You felt the weight of a hand in yours, recognizing the callouses belonging to your boyfriend. You slowly blink your eyes open, taking in the soft lighting of the room in the medical bay of the avenger’s compound. Usually it was you siting in Bucky’s place after Bucky did something reckless on a mission. This was the first time things were the other way around. You gently turn your head, wincing at the stiffness in your neck, making you wonder how long you had been out. There he was.

Bucky looked disheveled. His shoulder length hair was tied back in a messy buns, strains sticking out haphazardly all over the place. He was in sweatpants and a wrinkled t-shirt. His head was resting on the side of your bed, head turned to the side, giving you a view of his dark circles and scruff that had grown out longer than he normally allowed it. He looked how your body felt; a wreck.

You gently brought the hand that wasn’t incased in Bucky’s over to his head, gently and soothingly running your fingertips over his face. At the touch, he slowly opened his eyes, his widening upon seeing that you were awake.

“Baby, my god it's so good seeing those eyes again,” He said, voice gruff from lack of use. He had barely spoken since you had fell asleep back at the sight of the blast. He looked so relieved, like he could finally breathe again. If you looked closer, there were some tears gathered in his eyes.

“Hi Jamie,” you said softly, voice also hoarse from lack of use.

Hearing your voice and the nickname, he smiled softly, grabbing a cup of water from the stand by your hospital bed and holding it so you could get a drink. You took a few gulps, thanking him afterwards.

“How are you feeling, doll? Any pain?” He asked you, hand caressing your cheek as you leaned into his touch.

You took a moment to survey your body. You could feel the presence of a bandage wrap around your midsection, no doubt covering the wound and incision from the emergency surgery you were sure you had to have. You also noticed the presence of other bandaged dispersed along your limbs, due to smaller cuts and scrapes from the blast. While you were sure you were quite a sight, you didn’t feel any pain.

“No pain, but what’s the damage?” You ask.

“Two cracked ribs, a large gash to the back of your head that went down to your skull, so you’ve got 7 staples back there. The pipe that went through you luckily missed your major organs. They had to do some repairs to your intestines, and they had to remove your appendix that was damaged from the pipe. You’ve got a nasty concussion and some cuts and bruises. You’ve been unconscious for 4 days,” He lists off your injuries from memory.

A silence falls between the both of you. You look down at your hands held in Bucky’s, his thumb gently brushing back and forth on the tops of your hands.

“God, baby. You scared the life out of me,” He says, voice breaking at the end.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky. I should’ve been more careful,” You tell him, hating the pain you’ve caused him.

His head jerks up at your apology before he scoffs softly and shakes his head.

“No, doll. I should have been more careful. It's my job to watch your six. I’m so, so, sorry I failed,” He says with a sniffle, trying to hold back tears.

“You didn’t fail. It was made to look untouched, undisturbed for decades. We had no reason to suspect anything. We will be more careful next time, all of us. This was no ones fault,” You tell him sternly, willing him to understand that he is not responsible.

“I thought I was going to lose you, baby. I thought I was losing you without ever telling you I love you,” He whispers.

You smile softly, reaching up to tuck an unrulily strand of hair back behind his ear.

“You can tell me now,” you offer.

“I love you doll. I always have.” He tells you, a reverent tone taking over his voice, overcome with emotions he thought he’d never feel again.

You both lean in and softly kiss. You know the road to full recovery is going to be long, but you would do anything with your Bucky by your side.

[raurquiz]

#happybirthday #sigourneyweaver #actress #alien #aliens #alien3 #resurrection #gorillasinthemist #workinggirl #ghostbusters #afterlife #avatar #TheWayofWater #galaxyquest #chappie #vantagepoint #thedefenders #walle #thecabininthewoods #docmartin #thedarkcrystal #ageofresistance

[possessingtheproperspirit]

It's @mppmaraudergirl's birthday! In celebration, have this random load of nonsense: sixth year Jily flirting by the lake.

“Ah, June.”

She doesn’t lift her gaze from the book in her lap, although she can’t seem to stop the smile already tugging at her lips. 

He is not discouraged by her lack of response. “To be young and in love in June,” he sighs, and flops down next to her. He smells like mint and pine and sweat. Not that she notices that sort of thing. “How can you bear it, Evans?”

“What, June?” she asks, still not looking up. Over the course of their sixth year at Hogwarts, she’s become used to his meandering threads of conversation: his mind works in mysterious and, yes, amazing ways. Now that they’re friends, she’s more attuned to it than ever. “One day at a time, Potter. Just me and my will to survive.”

He snorts and her smile strengthens; finally, she allows herself to look up, squinting in the sunshine as she takes him in. His tie has long since been abandoned, his hair its usual dishevelled mess. His legs are stretched out in front of him, and he rests back on his elbows, a louche sort of insouciance that, again, she wishes she didn’t find as charming as she does. 

“Not June,” he corrects her, and nods towards the lake. From their vantagepoint, under the shade of an ancient willow tree, they have the perfect view of two fourth years, flirting for Britain in the shallows. “Love’s young dream over there. It’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” she wonders. She recognises the boy—he’s a Hufflepuff prefect. Seems nice enough. “All they’re doing is standing there.”

“Standing there,” he repeats dryly. She can tell that he’s enjoying himself, that he’s committing to this train of thought even if he doesn’t really care. Sometimes he says things and he means them; sometimes he says things and he’s looking to have some fun. She likes both versions equally. “Flaunting their happiness in front of us!”

She turns to look at James, biting her lip as her smile threatens to overwhelm. “Oh, I’m sorry, Potter,” she says, and he meets her gaze, his own grin blooming. “I didn’t realise you were suffering so.”

“Being single,” he shrugs, waving an airy hand in the direction of the lake. “The secret sadness, even on a sunny day.” He glances down at her book. “Even in your fine company. Even though you’d rather be reading—what is that?”

“Pride and Prejudice,” she replies, showing him the cover. “It’s a classic.”

“That’s what girls want, is it?” he smirks. “Regency romance, contained desire and declarations of love at a polite distance?”

“Well,” she considers. “That, and paddling about in a lake.”

James’ laugh warms her, and she follows his gaze back out to the flirting pair nearby. “Maybe that’s where I’m going wrong.”

“Or maybe,” she says, and she’s not sure why, because it makes her stomach feel like it’s turning inside out, “you’re not going as wrong as you think you are.”

He looks round again, an intrigued eyebrow raised. For a moment, no comment, and she thinks she’s messed this up. They were having a rambling joking conversation, and she made it into something real.

But then he smiles again, and says, “We’re often our own harshest critic, aren’t we?” A pause, then, “Most of us, anyway. Sirius thinks he’s the bee’s knees.”

“But that’s only because he is,” Lily replies. Her heartbeat is returning to a normal rate. “Ignore the lake lovebirds. Lie back and I’ll read you some of my book.”

He chuckles, but does as he is asked, settling comfortably back against the grass. “Can I try to guess the ending?” he asks. “Who dies first, pride or prejudice? My money’s on prejudice.”

“James,” she says patiently, opening her book up again. “Shut up and listen.”

“Harsh,” he murmurs, and grins up at her. “But fair.”

And that was where they stayed, until the sun started to set over the lake.

[kiastirling-fanfic]

Its SatFriday which means DADWC time :D I humbly submit ‘  are  you  so  eager  to  be  eaten  ?  ’ for Hamin Surana

Thank you!!!

Here's some Hamin & Solas in the Hinterlands.

wordcount: 694 Rating: T Content Warnings: references to people getting eaten by bears

@dadrunkwriting

If Hamin never saw another bear in her life it would be too soon. And statistically unlikely, the longer they remained in the Hinterlands.

Hamin thanked the Creators she had signed on as a Requisition agent rather than a scout. She was in her element picking herbs and rendering their kills into usable parts, and she was safely away from any bears as Lavellan and his team were surprisingly adept at slaying any beast that showed any ill-intent. Following in their wake as they broke through towards the next camp site was messy business, but quite probably the safest place to be in all of Southern Ferelden for now.

Or it was until they reached said new campsite. Hamin had happily shrugged off her pack and helped unload the small cart of pelts and meat her team had collected on the way while camp was being set up, looking forward to the stew that was already being thrown together at the central fire. A large circle of wards had already been woven about the camp, and with it piles of burnt herbs that would further dissuade anymore bears from encroaching.

She should have had the night off to relax, take in the rather pretty view from the camp’s vantagepoint, and enjoy some bear stew and hard tack. Maybe write a poem, if the ghost wasn’t too keen on singing with her again.

But that view was interrupted by what was becoming an all too familiar scene. Solas creeping away from camp on his own, using his staff as a walking stick.

Fenhedis.

Hamin set off after him before the siren song of sitting down became too strong. No bears she could see for now at least, but best not to tempt fate.

“Are you so eager to get eaten?” she growled on her approach, not unlike the bears she was keen to avoid.

“Are you?” Solas’ retort left much to be desired. “No, I saw hints of a ruin nearby and wish to investigate. But as you no doubt saw in camp yourself, the Herald is already taking a nap. I thought it would be better to go on my own, given the new… policy.”

Three patrols they’d lost to the bears already. They were ravenous this early into spring, just woken from hibernation and lacking the usual wariness that made them avoid noisy humans and the like. The scouts had been ordered to either move in larger groups or alone; a pair was too few to fend off one of the giant grizzlies that called the valleys in the south of the region their home, and pairs also tended to get attached to one another.

If one fell, the other went back for them. And then they were both dead and a vital point of contact severed until someone else noticed. Conversely, a lone scout unburdened by sentiment could more often than not escape with their life.

“So you consider looking at ruins so pressing you need to walk into danger alone?” It was a less foreign notion than Hamin was likely to admit. Perhaps Solas did have some proper apostate’s instincts to do such things alone, even if they were competing with his basic survival instincts.

“Only when the circumstances justify it, I assure you. I do set wards, you know.”

“Against bears?” She’d heard of wards of course. The Kinloch Circle had been coated in them, according to her lessons, but apprentices didn’t learn how to make them. They were meant to guard a dreaming mind from demonic interference, but she hadn’t heard of them protecting from any physical dangers.

“Among other things.” Solas had a small smile as he spoke. Probably amused that the big bad Circle-trained mage knew less than him about something again.

“Do those other things include templars? No?” Hamin sighed when his smile froze on his face. Maybe he really didn't have a proper apostate's instinct after all. “I can keep watch while you poke around then. If you promise we’ll be back in time for dinner.”

At length, he agreed. And Hamin found some Crystal Grace on the way, so she couldn’t complain too much.

[twinflames-rewrite]

ShadowClan Culture

The Cunning: ShadowClan’s territory is colder and sparser than that of other Clans. As a result, these cats prioritize quick thinking and detailed planning. They plan each battle ahead of time, and discuss it afterwards. Their tales are full of heroes who are clever enough to face any obstacle.

ShadowClan cats are small, and often have dark-colored pelts. Kits are named aspirationally, with parents hoping their kit will embody the qualities of their prefix.

Below the cut are the following expansions to ShadowClan's culture:

Council

Holidays

Territory

Territory Powers

Territory Tales

ShadowClan's Council

ShadowClan's Council is made up of 3 members. They will hold the position for three cycles of the seasons, and then a new cat will join the Council. The new member is the winning team leader of their newleaf holiday competition, and one member is replaced each year.

ShadowClan's Council gives advice to the leader, but their main responsibilities are leading battle patrols and coordinating battle training. They are also responsible for guiding discussion and analysis of battles after they are fought.

ShadowClan's deputy is always chosen by the leader. It cannot be one of the cats currently serving on the Council, but may be a cat who has served on the Council previously.

Clan Holidays

MAJOR Each Newleaf, ShadowClan arranges a Clan-wide mock battle. The objective is simple: capture your opponent’s plume, a tall stick with various feather fashioned onto it. Once captured, the plume must be successfully returned to your own base to win the game. The leader of each team is chosen by the medicine cat, believed to be led by StarClan in their decision. The leaders of each team then choose their team members from a line, alternating turns. The leader of the winning team will join the Clan's Council.

MINOR While ShadowClan's major holiday is in newleaf, they still celebrate the holidays of the other seasons.

Greenleaf: ShadowClan celebrates Greenleaf with a game of agility. The Clan is split into two teams, with the leader and deputy taking turns picking cats from a line-up. The cats then gather ripe berries and draw a line through a clearing. Staying on their respective sides of the clearing, each team throws their berries at the opposing team, and when hit by a berry, the cat is 'out'. Afterwards, the Clan works together to clean up all the berry juice, and enjoys a meal together.

Leaf-fall: As the weather begins growing cold, ShadowClan cats will wait for a cold night with a clear sky. On the first such night in the season, cats will go out and find a good vantagepoint of the stars, and spend time reflecting on the past year with the help of StarClan. The following day is spent reflecting as a Clan, and taking time to make amends and air out grievances.

Leafbare: While the other Clans hide from the cold and snow, ShadowClan cats love to play and delight in it. In the heart of leafbare, ShadowClan organizes a stealth exercise. The warriors, queens, and apprentices spread out throughout the territory. Then, the leader, deputy, and council members must work together to catch all of the Clan cats before they reach camp. The kits and elders spend the day within camp keeping track of cats who were found, and cats who got to the camp without being seen!

ShadowClan's Territory

A cold taiga of pine forest, with cold winds blowing down the mountain towards them. With soil frozen solid, there is little to no understory.

Territory Powers

ShadowClan's territory has granted them a variety of abilities to help them thrive in their home.

Softpaws: Leave little to no trace while walking, including making no noise and leaving no footprints, even when walking on snow or frost.

Shadowed: Used to conceal, blending in easily with shadows. Doesn’t make a cat invisible, just harder to notice if you weren’t already looking for them.

Frost-Covered: Can create a thin, icy layer of a surface or item. While the use is in contact with the item, the layer will remain; once there is no more physical contact, the ice will melt as is appropriate for the temperature.

Territory Tales

FROSTFANG Frostfang is a elusive creature. A furred snake with the head of a weasel, it slithers through the snow like an eel through water. Frostfang bites at cats’ paws as they walk through the snow. It’s teeth are made of icicles, causing its victims to get frostbite. Thankfully, warriors can avoid it by travelling in groups and using their Softpaws to walk above the snow. If all else fails, though, climbing a tree with a berry bush at the base will surely get it off your tail! Skeptical cats insist that Frostfang doesn’t exist; a cat on their own in a snowstorm is always susceptible to frostbite and death. They suspect the story is just told to kits to keep them in camp during the cold months.

THE WILD HUNT When the full moon is especially large and bright, a collection of ghostly cats roam all four territories. Named the Wild Hunt, the group catches prey and chases off predators. ShadowClan cats believe that these warriors who broke the Warrior Code in life, whom StarClan has condemned to roam the territories until they earn their place in the Stars.

[mtaartsdesign]

Josée Bisaillon’s new art card “NYC View” illustrates the hustle and bustle of city life from the vantagepoint of a pigeon. The birds fly above buildings, trees, cars, and trains, all detailed in pastels with a watercolor effect.

[norcal44]

VantagePoint...

[bakedmalicious]

And the antagonist would be somebody who had previously accepted the fate of the world and just wanted to get a better vantagepoint of it this time but is mad that the others keep fucking everything up

Time Travel Fix-It-Fic idea where a Bad Ending happens, but then one of the characters is magically sent to the beginning of the story. it seems like they're the only one who's been sent back in time and they're like "Huh, is this my second chance? I have to try my best to fix everything! I have to do it on my own though, if I tell anyone else that I've lived a future with [Bad Ending], they would never believe me" so they try to push things toward a better outcome while staying secretive about the time travel thing. but it turns out that every character was sent back in time and everyone is trying on their own to fix the situation, but all of them think they're the only one who was sent back in time and that they have to hide it from the others, so they're all being secretive from each other and trying to act normal while fixing everything and they all have different ideas of what "fixing everything" even means and all of them are stupid and it just devolves into everything being worse

like this

[warblingandwriting]

Just finished A Canticle for Leibowitz and I'm still not entirely sure about the ending. The way it tends to conflate religion wit morality admittedly rubbed me the wrong way, and I'm trying to parse whether or the final section is a proper criticism of that, or if we're just supposed to take at face value that the church is right.

In the final section nukes are dropped once again, and the world seems to be repeating a sort of cycle. As this happens people are getting treatment for radiation, and the terminal cases are being offered voluntary euthanasia so they don't have to die horribly. Very On The Beach. The current Abbott is super against this and tries to stop a woman from killing herself and her child peacefully, and like... to me that seems cruel and as though it could be a criticism of the church's morality in the face of horrible death. Nut from the vantagepoint of 1959 I'm just not sure.

The other thing that feels like a criticism is the refusal to baptise Rachel who is revealed to be autonomous and innocent in the final pages. Again this seems like criticism of the church's dismissal oh her and of difference in general. I'd like to think these two things together help parallel what the novel thinks about religion with what it thinks about technology; its not inherently evil, but it can fall into the wrong hands and make what human choose to do with it evil.

But im not sure that reading really aligns with the first and second parts of the novel either... I have to think on it more but just wanted to get out some initial thoughts.

[scribblesoul-20]

Job title: Administration Assistant - Emirati - Dubai Company: Hill International Job description: About the job Administration Assistant - Emirati - Dubai General Description of Role and Responsibilities: General... using VantagePoint. Process vendors' invoices in coordination with the Finance Department. Performs other administrative... Expected salary: Location: Dubai Job date: Fri, 08 Mar 2024 04:36:28 GMT Apply for the job now!

[duranduratulsa]

Now showing on my Spooktober Filmfest...Slaughterhouse (1987) on glorious vintage VHS 📼! #movie #movies #horror #slaughterhouse #JoeBarton #sherryleigh #donbarrett #ripdonbarrett #JoelHoffman #courtneylercara #LeeRobinson #jeanettesaylor #erichschwarz #donnastevens #WilliamHouck #janehigginson #davefogel #billbrinsfield #jeffgrossi #JeffWright #80s #vintage #vhs #spooktober #halloween #october #vantagepoint

[raurquiz]

#HappyBirthday #sigourneyweaver #actress #producer #alien #aliens #alien3 #resurrection #ghostbusters #afterlife #gorillasinthemist #workinggirl #copycat #TheIceStorm #galaxyquest #thevillage #vantagepoint #chappie #amonstercalls #cabininthewoods #Avatar #thewayofthewater #walle #thetalesofdespereaux @hbomaxla @tcmla @disneyplusla